


Fatal

by ToreyTaylor



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Gore, Car Accidents, Gen, Halloween, Horror, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToreyTaylor/pseuds/ToreyTaylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He thought it was just another trick-or-treater. How wrong he was...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fatal

It's dark and the rain is lashing down. It's Halloween and wind-swept leaves are hitting the windscreen sharply as my mum carefully drives through the twisting country lane. My dad is snoring in the passenger seat and smells of alcohol. We've just been to a family reunion. It was nice. But now, all my thoughts are focused on right here, right now. I'm scared. I hate storms and I hate having to sit in a car as it battles through the wind and the rain and the leaves and the penetrating, evil darkness.

It is evil, I can feel it. My senses are heightened. Dad's snoring seems to be getting louder and I can feel the car starting to judder. Mum just yawned. She sounded really tired. She said she only had one glass of wine but what if she had more? Something is wrong. I'm feeling absolutely petrified all of a sudden. I glance out of the car window and I see a figure, standing on the pavement. It's a dark figure, dressed in a black cloak. I can only just make it out. If it wasn't for the glare of the car headlights hitting the large metal scythe he was holding I probably wouldn't have noticed he was there.

I'm wondering why a trick-or-treater's traversing through this winding country lane, in the middle of nowhere, in a storm. There are no houses here, just bare, early wintry countryside where the trees are clinging to the few leaves they still have on their limb-like branches. I'm feeling a deep sense of morbid fascination, which is quite unlike me. The person pretending to be the Grim Reaper is long gone now and now my eyes are focusing on the trees, almost dead, but not quite. I suddenly think of cancer, and my Granddad, and how he looked when he took his final breath, pale and thin. The trees look the same, as though winter is nothing but a cancer and that nature's succumbing to it.

I close my eyes, trying to rid myself of the morbid thoughts, and I go dizzy so I open them again. I look out the window and I see a face staring at me through the window. No. It isn't a face. It's more like a whispery shadow, a fabrication of the mind, seeing something that you think is there, but isn't. But it's there. I can feel its cold, putrid breath on my skin. I try to look away, but I can't. The car is moving, twisting through the country lane that is getting darker and darker as every moment passes. How is this possible? It's a figment. Just a figment. I close my eyes and turn my head. I stay that way until the screeching of car tyres forces me to open them again.

My mum screams as the car swerves left and right. My dad has stopped snoring and is sat, rigid. Everything seems much slower now and my mum's screams seem to go on and on and on, like they're running into each other. There's a bone-shaking thud as the car hits a cancer-ridden tree. I bite my tongue and my head cracks against the window as the car starts rolling. It finally comes to a stop and I can hear nothing but the rain hitting the windows and the high-pitched sound of creaking, twisted metal. There is warmth running down my face and I can taste blood in my mouth. I think my parents might be dead and I know that I will soon be next. The last thing I see before I fall into darkness is a bloodied wind-screen and the crimson silhouette of the Grim Reaper standing silently in front of the wreck.

The End


End file.
